


Unexpected Salt (like knowing yourself)

by fwooshy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amor-Tantalising Tortes, Community: firewhiskeyfic, F/F, Humor, Lavender-centric, M/M, Romance, Valentine's Day, Werewolf Lavender Brown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:20:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29647056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fwooshy/pseuds/fwooshy
Summary: There was a moment in seventh-year—the year she'd been mauled by a werewolf—where her palm lines wiggled, and she strayed from her tea-leaf path, but it'd been a brief moment, at best—no longer than the waning of the moon.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Lavender Brown/Parvati Patil
Comments: 9
Kudos: 9





	Unexpected Salt (like knowing yourself)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [hullaballoonsie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hullaballoonsie) for reading this over, and also to mods [torino10154](https://archiveofourown.org/users/torino10154) and [sdk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdk) for hosting!

Lavender Brown was a dirigible kind of girl who grew up to be a dirigible kind of woman. There was a moment in seventh-year—the year she'd been mauled by a werewolf—where her palm lines wiggled, and she strayed from her tea-leaf path, but it'd been a brief moment, at best—no longer than the waning of the moon. Still, looking back, she thinks fondly of those nights, despite their difficulties. It was the moon that set her on the path to the rest of her life.

Back then, she prowled restlessly, slinking through the streets of Hogsmeade with her hood tight over her furry ears so better for her to hide. She pawed past the Three Broomsticks, sniffing longingly outside Honeydukes, before peeping inside Madam Puddifoot's pink empire and yearning, for one long moment, that it was her in Cho's overstuffed loveseat, with her perfectly hairless hand clutching Michael Corner's as he fed her bites of chocolate-covered plum.

She did this, day after day, week after week. Even in her aimlessness, she found beauty in a routine—a territory to mark. It was on one of her patrols that the empress Madam Puddifoot herself stepped out and hollered— 

"You. You're perfect."

Lavender looked left. She looked right. And then she looked straight ahead and saw Madam Puddifoot staring right back at her.

It was the first time in months that anyone had looked Lavender in the eye.

Madam Puddifoot was throwing a big, Little Red Riding Hood themed party for Valentine's Day, and Lavender was to be the perfect false grandmother.

"Your furry ears are so adorable under that bonnet," Madam Puddifoot cooed, tucking the lace fringe around Lavender's face so that the furry tips of her ears showed.

"Are they really?" Lavender whispered, leaning into the madam's cool fingers. Madam Puddifoot showed no fear of Lavender's sharp canines, of her wolf-yellowed eyes. She only saw the perfect waitress for her Little Red Riding Hood themed event, of which Lavender was more than happy to be. Lavender was a sugar-coated werewolf who preferred sinking her teeth into candy hearts over their more bloody counterparts. The only red she wanted smearing the corners of her mouth was from the chocolate-coated cherry cordials that Madam Puddifoot sold at three sickles per.

Lavender waitressed for Madam Puddifoot's Valentine event of 1999. And then she waitressed for her again the week after, and the week after that—until it was 2021. Madam Puddifoot had just reached the tender age of "a lady never reveals her age but may someday desire to retire to a summer cottage on the coast of Wales with her three kneazles and oafish but adorable wife", and with that, she passed the title of Madam to her most loyal, most favourite employee-of-the-year-and-decade: Lavender Brown.

Lavender wasn't the sort of person to question things when given to her. She was the sort of girl you could absentmindedly hand your chocolate frog wrapper to, and she'd take it and put it in her pocket to throw in the bin when she passed one next.

Valentine's Day was always a big day at Madam Puddifoot's, and Lavender wanted to make a big splash with her first year as the Madam of Madam Puddifoot.

"Valentine's day is so over. It's all about Galentine's day," Jasper said. Jasper was one of Lavender's usuals. He came around every day after his shift at Hog's Head and never ordered anything, but always brought Lavender a leftover sandwich or a bowl of soup, so he was alright. If you added him up, Jasper was more fun than annoying. Plus, he didn't look at Lavender weird, even though she'd told him the wolf ears were real. (He'd said that they were cute, no matter where they came from.)

Then Parvati Patil came through the door with her twin Padma, and, well—Lavender always had a thing for Parvati, even if she didn't know it at Hogwarts. Parvati was like the unexpected salt of caramel. Or the hidden cinnamon in a familiar mug of hot chocolate. She was fun when life was dull.

"Yeah," Lavender sighed.

"Great!" Jasper exclaimed. "I'll start brewing the Amortentia tomorrow."

A more stubborn woman—Hermione, perhaps—would have protested. Insisted— _ no _ .  _ Integrity _ must be maintained when running a business. And the legal fees alone for drafting the appropriate consent forms would sink the day's ledger well into the red. But Lavender Brown was a dirigible woman, and Jasper was a convincing friend, so the theme for Valentine's Day 2021 was: 

**_LOVE, WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT… BITCHES_ ** (18+ only)

Reservations filled up in five minutes, but it took Lavender nearly a month to bake the Amortentia into her confections. Amortentia had a tendency to explode when above a specific temperature and below a certain pH, and fur was no fun to wash. (Although Lavender did love any excuse for a soak.)

The first couple to try the Amor-Tantalising Tortes were Rose Weasley and her boyfriend, Scorpius Malfoy. Rose Weasley said, "Do you smell… books? And um… yarn? Like the smell that yarn gets after it's been near an oven of cookies too long. Also, floss?"

Scorpius Malfoy said, "No, I'm pretty sure this Amor-Tantalising Torte tastes like Albus Severus."

"What does Albus Severus taste like?" Rose Weasley asked, her brows raised as though poised to take notes.

"Like stupid," Scorpius declared.

The second and third and fourth, and so on were boring because they all started making out over the table after their first bites of Lavender's Amor-Tantalising Tortes. 

"True fucking love," Jasper sighed. "Wake me up when someone gets stabbed."

The fifth party was a group of three girls intent on spending Galentine's together with their best friends ever. Jasper ushered them to Hog's Head after the first five minutes, so they could get some more "private time" to sort out their latent sexual desires for each other. This left the rest of their reservation open for any willing taker.

The walk-in went to Professor Potter and Potions Master Malfoy. They'd become friends during their tenure at Hogwarts and now were out on an entirely unromantic stroll through Hogsmeade on Valentine's Day. Lavender wasn't sure who was the oblivious one between the two (although she wouldn't be surprised if the answer was both). 

"Lavender! I didn't know you worked here," Harry said when they walked in the door. Lavender smiled and nodded and absolutely did not comment about how she'd been working at Madam Puddifoot's for the last twenty years. Harry was very near-sighted when it came to people he cared about. Glasses did that to a person, and Lavender could not commiserate, as life had blessed her with 20/20 vision (bitches).

They took the seat right next to the counter, hidden away from the window because Lavender was a considerate sort of person even to people who forgot she existed.

"What'll it be for you two lovebirds?" Lavender asked, her Quick-Quill already drawing hearts with fat wings and little curly tails—just itching to write a love story. 

"Oh. We're not. Not at all—I mean, we're just. It's the weekend, and we're bored. That's what this is," Potions Master Malfoy said, then stopped and gulped. "I like your dress, um… Lavender."

Lavender wore a green silk slip. She made no effort in concealing her furriness. But she could smell the honesty from him, so she thanked him before repeating, "So, what'll it be for you two lovebirds?"

Harry turned the colour of red velvet cupcakes with extra beet dye. Draco kept on stammering, "We're not, we're not—"

So it was like that.

In the spirit of the holiday, Lavender suggested the Puddifoot Special: Amor-Tantalising Tortes, to which they both agreed sounded "proper tantalising". 

Harry took the first bite. He said, "Merlin, this tastes amazing. Like moonlight on my face. Like the burning brightness of constellations against a cold winter night."

To which Draco rejoined, "It tastes like a prick up my arse. Like I'm fucked fuller than a full moon and…"

They gazed longingly into each other’s eyes for two, stretched-out, saltwater taffy seconds before lunging.

It was honestly rather disgusting.

But if you insist:

They tipped the table over. Torte smeared all over Harry's robes before he even touched Draco's face. It took Harry thirty raucous seconds before he managed his hands under Draco's robes, though Draco moaned through it all like the torte had him fucked on first taste—though it wasn't until Harry discovered that chocolate syrup served an adequate substitute for lube that Draco started screaming, "MerLIN, Potter,  _ more _ —another finger,  _ please _ , you feel so fucking good, I've wanted you since I was—"

"P-Potions Master Malfoy?" a shrill voice piped up, 

Lavender had been enjoying the show, but alas, a tea shop was not the appropriate venue for two Hogwarts teachers to finish the night off. She readjusted her panties with some reluctance before kicking them out.

"That was probably the worst of it," Jasper said, snickering.

Lavender checked the time. Two more hours, then she could relax. She'd run a bath and maybe try a piece of the torte too. It was an excellent torte—very moist—even if the taste came as of no surprise to her. Like the unexpected salt of caramel, the hidden cinnamon...

"Have you tried the torte?" Lavender asked Jasper.

"Yeah," Jasper sighed gustily.

Lavender was afraid to probe further. She cleared her throat, drumming her fingers. But, in the end, Lavender couldn't let it go. It wasn't that she wanted Jasper that way—no, she was pretty sure she exclusively wanted to fuck women. But she loved Jasper, and it was kind of sad… Amortentia, you know? Like being in love was so coveted that people would do anything for a taste of its imitation. Lavender didn't understand what was so great about love, the kind that drove people crazy, anyway.

Okay. That was a lie. Lavender probably wanted a swept-off-her-feet romance more than anyone else she knew. She certainly desired it more than Harry and Draco, but of course, they got it without even trying, lucky wankers. But—was it worth it to live a life of misery seeking the one impossible thing, like a monkey, reaching for the moon at the bottom of a well? Some people just weren't cut out to succeed in that way. Then you had to make do with what you had.

And if all Lavender had was Madam Puddifoot's and Jasper's terribly Slytherin ideas, then… well, she could die happy. She'd basically been dead anyway until Madam Puddifoot brought her back and gave a new direction to her life.

Even though Lavender had always been a simple kind of girl who loved being loved most of all, she had an alright sort of life, despite having wolfish breath. She had made Madam Puddifoot happy, and Jasper too. So maybe, it was enough.

"The torte. It smells like… me," Jasper said. He grinned at her, his eyes twinkling with the best kind of tears, sweet and cathartic. "I love myself. Is that wrong?"

"Don't be stupid," Lavender giggled, her laugh lines creasing. "I love that you love yourself."

The last reservation came at ten pm that night, and her name was Parvati Patil. She arrived alone. Lavender stared at the empty chair across from her former best friend and felt a pang of longing. Of wishing that she was in that seat. Of wishing that absence didn't exist in Parvati's heart. 

"I'm sure they'll come along," Lavender bubbled beside Parvati, her quill outstretched to take Parvati's order.

Parvati's lips seemed soft as the skin of summer plums. Her eyes were a deep brown, brimming with everything Lavender ever wanted. Lavender's breath caught. She had to look away.

Parvati opened her perfect plum mouth. "Actually…." She bit her lips, nervous, before thinning them in determination. "Actually, the seat's for you."

Parvati had a pot of tea and two slices of Russian honey cake. She stayed on after Lavender closed the shop, sitting there by herself at that heart-shaped table even as Lavender shuttered the blinds.

"I—" Parvati said.

I'm sorry.

I was afraid.

There were many reasons to be afraid of loving Lavender. Lavender was a werewolf, for one, with far more facial hair than considered conventionally attractive. And then there was the lesbian thing.

"Yes," Lavender said. She sat on the counter, next to the cash register. Her breath came quick in anticipation, but her mind remained surprisingly at ease. She'd always loved Parvati. That was the truth of it. But in the decades since, she also learned to love herself.

Parvati walked up to her. There was more to Parvati than her lips, but that was all Lavender could see. Parvati's perfect plum lips against hers, shy at first but budding in bravery. Lavender wrapped her arms around Parvati so that Parvati fell between her legs. Parvati burned fire-hot fingers beneath Lavender's silk slip, melting down years of defences and disappointment as they moved up Lavender’s thigh. Something bloomed in Lavender then, hot and unfurling fast, though it was planted many winters ago.

Having sex for the first time with someone you already love was like learning the lyrics to a song you already knew. It was nothing special, nothing unexpected—but so, so good; so good that you beat yourself up wondering why you never made time for it before.

Sex like that was something to get used to, to get bored with, and then love how familiar it was the very next minute. It was the comfortable confidence of knowing the words to a song before they came, of knowing someone else as well as you knew yourself.

Lavender thought she could die this way, with her hands in Parvati's hair and her mouth sliding wet up Parvati's throat. Her eyes closed in prayer, offering up her soul to any god who would grant her this moment, again, tomorrow. This—Parvati, panting open-mouthed and vulnerable—this unexpected love, in a lonely wolf's life; it was enough to kill a woman.

"I'm sorry," Parvati said, her words muffled in the crook of Lavender's neck. "I love you."

"I know." Lavender swallowed thickly. Something heavy lodged in her throat, like a muddled ball of emotions, all fighting to get out first. "I know," she said again. "Me too."

If you asked Lavender why she had been Madam Puddifoot's favourite, Lavender may say something along the lines of "Well, of course, you can never be certain when it comes to matters of the heart. But if I had to guess, it's because she trusted me, despite my wolfishness. And, because my favourite colour is pink."

The truth of it was that Madam Puddifoot had seen in her tea leaves a lonesome wolf, sweet as sunshine. They stayed very similar people, to the end.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [FirewhiskeyFic February 2021](https://firewhiskeyfic.dreamwidth.org/43315.html) prompts Lavender Brown, Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, Dirigible plums, and Amortentia.
> 
> I wrote this while very very drunk. _Amor-Tantalising Tortes_ were initially named _Amortentialalalicorice_ and somewhere near the end I switched from third to first person and devolved into a romantic monologuing mess... it was incredibly fun and you can read the whole [drunken mess here](https://firewhiskeyfic.dreamwidth.org/45620.html)!
> 
> Thank you for reading! 💛 You can find me on [dw](https://fwooshy.dreamwidth.org/) and [tumblr](https://fw00shy.tumblr.com/).


End file.
